The Lifebringer, Volume 1: Saviour
by Pokefanljb
Summary: Azeroth is in ruins. With the death of the planet, hopes and dreams were lost, its leaders and its people, dead. But in the ashes of a dead world, a hero shall rise... This is the tale that never was. A tale of the Lifebringer.
1. Prologue: Heroes Fall

The chilling wind swept across the frozen wastes of Icecrown and howled against the dark, threatening walls of the Icecrown Citadel. The loud thud of heavily armoured boots against the frozen steps leading up to the frozen throne was drowned out by the screaming echoes in the wind. Sharp, high pitched voices whispered in the air, telling tales of betrayal and honour, justice and revenge. The words spoken were just loud enough to hear, but too quiet to truly understand. The pain and suffering however, was evidently clear. The Highlord Tirion Fordring, great hero and leader of the argent crusade strode up the steps towards the dark, frozen heart of death. Some of the voices Tirion recognised, old friends, taken by the very evil that rested at the citadels summit. The voices whispered dire warnings, telling him to go back, to leave and never return. Tirion approached the last, final steps of the stairway, wondering again if he was ready. He had been playing this moment in his mind time and time again, and now he felt completely unprepared. All his training, all the hard work, all the blood and all the deaths at his hands now finally, could serve a purpose. All of Azeroth rested on his shoulders. And yet, he still didn't feel ready. Tirion crossed the final step, standing still, looking out across the wastelands. He could see the fighting taking place, could see the soldiers of the argent crusade dying for the cause. His cause. Finally, Tirion turned round to face the lord of death, on his frozen throne. Across the chamber, on a throne made of ice, sat the Lich King. Once Arthas Menethil, crown prince of Lordaeron. He had led an expedition to Northrend to save his homeland, but came back and slew his own father. His soul, taken by the runeblade Frostmourne which, he now wore at his waist. The blue sapphire on the front of the Crown of Domination that the Lich King held on his head sparkled menacingly as Highlord Tirion Fordring approached the Frozen Throne.

Within moments, the air became still and a loud, commanding voice shook the summit of the Citadels spire, speaking in what seemed like two voices which were hideously combined into one, an awful combination of malice, and cruelty.

"So...the Light's vaunted justice has finally arrived. Shall I lay down Frostmourne and throw myself at your mercy, Fordring?" declared the Lich King. Within moments, the Lich King rose from his throne and descended the short flight of stairs to stand fifteen feet away from him. He looked menacing, his armor giving the impression that a dark god of death stood before Tirion.

"_In fact", _thought Tirion "_that may as well be true_". Tirion tried to compose himself in front of Arthas and attempted to look and sound confident. He however felt less than that by a long shot. "I will grant you a swift death, Arthas. More than can be said for the thousands you've tortured and slain." A long still silence echoed across the throne chamber before the Lich King answered his reply.

"You will learn of that first hand. When my work is complete, you will beg for mercy... and I will deny you. Your anguished cries will be testament to my unbridled power." yelled Arthas. Tirion attempted to ignore the awful voice of the Lich King as it echoed not only throughout the chamber but also in his mind. But the very thought of endless agony made Tirion shiver in the cold air of Northrend. The worst part however, was that Tirion believed him. Deep down, a dark sinister voice was telling him that this was unavoidable. That this was his fate. Tirion pushed these thoughts to one side and decided that this had gone on long enough.

"So be it" said Tirion, speaking softly under his breath, the words amplified tenfold across the chamber. Words spoken with a voice of true courage and purpose. Tirion clung to these precious feelings and drew them too him, filling him with a warmth that denied the cold air that surrounded him. Suddenly, these feeling and emotions burst from him in a roar of pure anger and rage. Those he loved and those who needed him were large in his mind and he charged the god of death, Ashbringer in hand, ready to strike down the false God and fulfill his destiny.

But fate had other plans for Tirion Fordring this day. As he neared Arthas, a sudden chill surrounded him, covering and encasing him in a block of ice. Immobile, Tirion could only watch in horror as Arthas approached his tomb and smiled a cold, soulless smile.

"I'll keep you alive to witness the end, Fordring. I would not want the Light's greatest champion to miss seeing this wretched world remade in my image." Spoke The Lich King in a soft discordant voice. The Lich King walked out onto the edge of the chamber and looked down at the armies of life and death, fighting an epic battle. From where Tirion was, he too could see the armies of the scourge force his soldiers back step by bloody step, away from the Citadel. The Lich King turned to face Tirion. "No questions remain unanswered. No doubts linger. You are Azeroth's greatest champion! You overcame every challenge I laid before you. My mightiest servants have fallen before your relentless onslaught, your unbridled fury... Is it truly righteousness that drives you? I wonder." he spoke in that horrible empty voice. Tirion could only stare at his soldiers, his men, dying one by one, and being risen again to serve a darker master. The Lich king looked down on them again and said, "You trained them well, Fordring. You delivered the greatest fighting force this world has ever known... right into my hands - exactly as I intended. You shall be rewarded for your unwitting sacrifice." Slowly he raised frostmourne above his head and smote it down towards the army below. Hundred died in an instant as they were claimed by the blast of frost that swept down from frostmourne's blade. "Watch now as I raise them from the dead to become masters of the Scourge. They will shroud this world in chaos and destruction. Azeroth's fall will come at their hands... and you will be the first to die." Shouted the Lich King in a sinister, triumphant voice. Soon, hundreds of dead faced the armies of the light, men who had died, and had returned to fight those they once called brother. For the last time, The Lich king turned to face Tirion and said softly, "I delight in the irony."

He didn't know if it was the countless men dying down below, or if it was those final words that Arthas had spoken, but Tirion was filled with a cold, heartless rage that exploded out of him in a yell and stunned the Lich King.

"LIGHT, GRANT ME ONE FINAL BLESSING. GIVE ME THE STRENGTH... TO SHATTER THESE BONDS!" From out of the darkness, a blinding light appeared and smote down apon the ice shattering it into a million pieces that exploded outwards in all directions. Arthas was knocked back and had little time to react as Tirion hurtled forward, arms raised holding the Ashbringer high, ready to strike Arthas down and end the Lich King once, and for all. In that epic moment between man and God, time seemed to stop. In a painfully slow speed, the Ashbringer swung down towards Arthas, who desperately raised Frostmourne to defend him from the unstoppable force of light that threatened him. There was a giant cataclysmic shockwave of noise and power that echoed across Icecrown as the two blades met, and the noise of a blade shattering on impact was heard miles away.

Tirion was flung backwards to the steps of the frozen throne, stunned. He looked up to see The Lich King, stunned also at the event that just happened. The Lich Kings face was confused and dazed, his look fixed at the object held in Tirion's hand. Tirion looked down, and saw, what was left of the Ashbringer. All he held was the hilt, the blade was shattered beyond repair, its pieces scattered across the chamber. In stunned disbelief, Tirion looked up at the triumphant gaze of the Lich King, Frostmourne in hand without a single scratch on it.

"Impossible..." whispered Tirion under his breath as Arthas slowly made his way over to the Highlord Tirion Fordring.

"You have failed, Tirion. Not even your precious Ashbringer could stop the might of Frostmourne. Your armies are scattered, your men, mine. And now, you will join them." Declared Arthas. The wind began again and howled against the Citadels spire as Tirion looked into Arthas' empty eyes and spoke prophetically,

"One day, soon, someone will rise from the ashes of _your_ world, and they will unite the people of Azeroth as I have done, and they will succeed in striking you down once and for all". The Lich King stood still as he listened to Tirion speak and when he had finished issued a loud, chilling laugh that rebounded throughout the chamber. The Lich King raised frostmourne, and stabbed straight through Tirion's heart. Tirion stared in horror and he could feel his body dying, and his soul being taken by frostmourne to join the countless other within its cold steel. Tirion lay still on the summit of Icecrown Citadel, his heart beating its last. But Tirion knew, with dread, that he would not be dead for long.

The Lich king kneeled next to the dead corpse of Highlord Tirion Fordring and whispered in his ear, "Let them come". The wind, however loud it howled, could not hide the sounds of the living screaming in despair, or the sounds of the dead roaring in triumph. And from miles around, the chilling echo of one, horrifying, discordant voice could not be hidden behind the whispers of the damned. "FROSTMOURNE HUNGERS!"


	2. Chapter 1: Nick Shepherd

It was 7:25 AM when the alarm clock sprung Nick from his slumber. He scrambled to turn off his alarm before he got a migraine, and got out of bed to look out the window. The sky above was cloudy and grey. Mondays were always very bleak in the small town of Middleton. The few houses that could be seen from his window were large country houses with massive gardens and little in the way of congestion cluttered the local roads. Such an unassuming day to contain such an extraordinary event that would soon take place. Nicholas Shepherd, aged 16 of average height and average look except his sharp brown eyes and thick brown hair; made his way to the shower to freshen up for another long day of arduous torture of school. Little did he know of the events that would unfurl there. After drying himself off he dressed himself in his casual school uniform and made his way downstairs to eat breakfast. Cold soggy cereal was left for him on the dining table with a note from his mother saying that she was getting shopping and that he would need to walk to school. Nick hated Mondays with a passion and the idea of having to walk to school really did not appeal to him.After gruelling through his deliciously soggy cereal, he collected his things and left the house.

The town of Middleton was fairly small with a few shops and little in the way of interest. As Nick walked down the High street he couldn't help but wonder how his day was going to end up. But his thoughts were short lived as a pair of hands grabbed him from an alleyway to his left and dragged him into the shadows. In fear Nick panicked and yelled, throwing his would be assailants away from him so he could get a better look at them. _"Oh no, not him, anyone but him" _Nick thought as he easily recognised the face of the school bully, Frank Redwoods, and his lackeys close behind. Frank had been beating Nicolas up since they were both eight. Frank was large, broad shouldered and heavily muscled, perfectly designed for the school rugby team which he was captain of.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the one and only Nick Shepherd, looks like you stumbled into the wrong alley" Frank exclaimed to his friends who sniggered and laughed behind him. Nick felt like he was having a bad day, and today he just didn't want to take any of Franks usual bull shit, so he replied,

"Look Frank, not that I enjoy getting pounded by those meat hooks you call hands, but I would really like to get to school on time today so, if you wouldn't mind…" Nick turned to leave but heard Franks voice say softly,

"Grab him" Nick suddenly found himself in the arms of one of Franks cronies holding him implacably while Nick desperately tried to struggle out of his grip. Frank slowly walked towards Nick, savouring every moment of Nick's fear. Without warning, Frank sent one of his meaty stumps into Nick's abdomen, causing Nick to cringe and cry out in pain. Frank, pleasure evident on his face continued to pound away at Nick's body, hitting him over and over. Men like Frank bullied and hurt others for one reason and one reason only. Because they enjoyed it. Nick had learnt over the years to accept the pain and play along with Frank's game. Didn't stop it hurting though. _"Sick freak"_ thought Nick as Frank finally stopped beating him. Frank bent down low to whisper in Nick's ear,

"See you around Nick, have fun getting to school". He then laughed a manic, sadistic laugh that roughly lasted 2 seconds. On cue, his lackeys laughed along almost simultaneously, following Frank out of the alley onto the street, leaving Nick cowering in the darkness and the dirt. Nick hurt all over, even where Frank hadn't beaten him hurt. It was days like these that made Nick wonder why he was even here. _"This is unfair. People shouldn't have to take things like this. Someone should stand up and say no." _Nick had thought long and hard about being the one to do just that, but he usually crushed the idea with his own self-pity and pessimistic attitude. But today that dream was sharp in his mind, and he reckoned that it was that idea, which helped him pick himself up off the floor and collect his belongings which had been kindly dumped by the side of the road. Once he had everything, he slowly but surely, made his way to school.

When Nick arrived at school he knew he was late. He made his way through the bustling crowd in the playground, hobbling and stumbling, trying not to cry out in pain. Somehow he had managed to limp his way about half a mile to school without collapsing, but now he just felt completely shattered. As usual people avoided his gaze and ignored his obvious ill health with an ease of long practice. Nicolas Shepherd was not the coolest kid in school, by a long shot. He didn't know what set him apart from all the other kids around him busy to get to their classes but he suspected it was just bad luck. In the wrong place at the wrong time and your reputation is ruined. Nick still remembered the trouser accident of 2008 and decided to immediately forget about it. _"At least I haven't seen Frank yet," _he thought optimistically as he entered the science block and hobbled his way up the stairs to go to biology. Once again, no one took notice of his late entrance to class, not even the teacher, who appeared to deem Nick as little less than an insect. An insect he would have given a detention for being late. But Nick got away with allot of things. But somehow that just didn't seem very positive to him. Biology did have good moments at times. Most days he enjoyed sitting alone at his desk reading and learning about life at it's finest. He always enjoyed learning about how plants and animals worked and why. Most people gave him weird looks as he sat alone by himself, calling him a nutter, but he just thought of himself as an avid admirer of life. Some people just don't understand the niceties in life. Unfortunately the lesson passed in the blink of an eye, as he couldn't seem to concentrate at any given time due to the large amounts of pain across is body. Twice he had asked the teacher to go to the medical room and twice he had been rejected. Being the man he was he soldiered on trying not to make too much of a fuss. Not that anyone would have cared in the slightest anyway. But it was hard when every arm movement caused sheer agony. As he went to leave the classroom, his fingers brushed against the metal door handle and out of nowhere a blue spark shocked his hand and caused him to yelp in even more pain. Most people around him sniggered and some murmured under their breath "freak" and "weirdo". Nick was stunned from the numb feeling in his hand, but decided to ignore it and move on. But as he slowly walked down the stairs he couldn't help but replay the event in his head. _"Blue electricity?"_ he thought to himself. _"You can't get blue electricity, you can't even see electricity because it doesn't have a colour."_ Nick opened the door and stepped outside the science department only to be met by a loud roar of thunder from the dark, ominous clouds above. _"Oh wonderful" _Nick thought to himself as he continued walking away.

"_I hope it doesn't rain"._

He walked over into the playground in the centre of the school considering how much pain its possible for a man to be in. He looked up to see the girl of his dreams, Sara Flowers, walking in his direction. Nick froze; trying to act as normal as he usually did, which instead made him look like a complete prat. Sara had been Nick's crush since he was 10, and he had been too much of a coward to tell anyone about it. Sara was extraordinarily pretty, with a long, elegant body topped with gold, shimmering locks that highlighted her face even on the darkest days. Sara had also been one of the only people in the entire school who took pity on Nick and his position in school society. Nick never did thank her for that. It was people like Sara who helped him keep on going every day in the face of other people like Frank. She looked up to see Nick gaping at her from a distance, mouth as far apart from his upper jaw as humanly possible. Quickly nick averted his gaze, only to find himself staring into the eyes of Frank Redwoods 20 metres away. Nick saw frank smile at him; both knowing full well that Nick was in for a world of hurt.

In any other situation Nick would have been frozen in fright, if not for the sudden flash of blue to his left which caused him to turn his head. _"I could have sworn I just saw…" _he thought, reminded of his experience earlier that morning. While Nick was furiously formulating possible explanations for the phenomenon that had occurred, Frank called upon that time to break Nick's thought pattern and say,

"Oi Nick, ready to have a bit of fun" he said, advancing slowly on Nick. But before he had walked five paces he stopped, gaping at Nick, his mouth hanging open as Nick's had done. Nick frowned, and looked at himself to find small flashes of blue sparkling all across his body. In shock, Nick could only stare as this 'electricity' slowly built up in size and number, covering him from head to toe. He also noticed that the buildings near him had similar 'electricity' running across them, as well as the floor at his feet. The sparks caused him to yelp in pain as they shocked all the lumps and bruises Frank had given him in the alleyway. People all soon began to stare at Nick in fascination as he started yelling and screaming in pain. This time, it wasn't Nick's popularity that caused them to simply stand and stare at his suffering. This time, none of them had any idea what to do or what was going on. No one did. Soon all Nick could see was blue light rushing around him, blocking his sight and causing him extreme pain. Nick looked up to see Sara's big blue eyes, wide open in shock and concern as the light suddenly intensified and a loud explosion of noise and colour blasted from him in all directions. People screamed and glass shattered as within seconds, in the spot Nick had been standing in there was just empty air, with a small black scorch mark to show any evidence that Nick had been there at all.


	3. Chapter 2: Arrival

Azeroth was in ruins. With the death of Tirion Fordring, the nations of Azeroth were in disarray. As the Lich king's armies swept across the planet like a swarm of locusts, the people of Azeroth abandoned their treaties and their alliances, leaving each other to fend for themselves. In the eastern kingdoms, the dwarves of Dun Morogh took their livestock and their people, and fled to their mountain city of Ironforge. Barring the gates to friend or foe. Meanwhile the people of Kalimdor were attacked on all sides, the orc stronghold of Orgrimmar especially, was taken and razed to the ground. The orcs fled with their closest allies, the Tauren and the Darkspear trolls, to the forgotten reaches of Kalimdor to hide and prepare. The Draenei also fled, abandoning Azeroth and escaping to outland in their ship, the Exodar. To everyone's dismay, the forsaken undead were lost to Arthas, their minds once again swiftly and brutally taken under the iron will of the Lich King. With his new army, The forsaken attacked and exterminated the blood elves of Silvermoon to the last man, women and child. Global genocide. The night elves sealed the borders of Teldrassil, retreating deep within their woody fortress, secluding themselves from the rest of the world. And finally, humanity, refusing to back down, promising never to give in. From the capital city of Stormwind, humanity fights against wave after unholy wave of the dead, slowly but surely, losing ground. Azeroth is in ruins. And all it needs is a hero. And the greatest of heroes, can emerge from the most unlikely of people.

The eastern plaguelands were a grim, forbidding place, all that was left of a part of the once great kingdom of Lordaeron. It was night in the plaguelands, the little light there was from the two dull orb shaped moons in the sky that cast terrifying shadows throughout the dead forests and the dead towns. And who knew what things lurked within the shadows, waiting. Within the forests of the dark dead land appeared a blinding blue light that shone for miles around in any direction. All creatures in the plaguelands stopped and stared at this shining light, blinded almost instantly by the radiance of the light that shone. The light blazed for a few seconds before fading away, the source of the light being replaced by the form of Nick Shepherd, still in his school uniform, dazed and confused. Nick found himself looking at complete blackness, a total absence of light in any direction. He staggered around for a couple of seconds, stunned and shocked by the event that had taken place. He looked up at the night sky, the stars had a pale sickly look to them and the stars were not in the same position as on earth, but Nick was not in the position or the condition to realise this. He didn't even notice the unusualness of two moons in the night sky above him. Nick struggled to remember the past five minutes and distinctly remembered being enveloped by bright, painful electricity. _"One second I was at school, the next I'm…" _Nick thought as he abruptly realised he wasn't at school anymore. Furthermore he began to see odd shapes surrounding him on all sides as his eyesight adjusted to the gloom. He soon began to recognise them as trees. However they were misshapen and ugly, with fungi and mould growing on their trunks. From what he could remember from his countless biology lessons, he could see there was brown rot, white rot, even soft rot fungi that targeted living or dying trees. Nick thought long and hard about his situation knowing many of these fungi were not situated anywhere near the small town of Middleton. He turned around to see a large hill situated behind him, studded with cliffs and boulders. What seemed to shock him were the skulls and bones, which stuck up out of the hillside, horrific and morbid. _"I must be dead," _he thought to himself, as it seemed the only logical explanation at the time. As he studied the trees he soon began to believe his explanation to his own horror. The trees were dying. In many cases the trees were dead, rotten decayed trunks with long thin spindly branches that snapped and oozed sap at the slightest touch as if bleeding. Within too long however, he began to feel claustrophobic, as the clawed branches seemed to reach out to him and grab him. Nick almost panicked completely, but he managed to remain logical and become calm enough to think his way out of the situation. He had reached a reasonable conclusion of finding the nearest town and get help, when the wolves started howling. The howls chilled Nick's blood in his veins and echoed throughout the wood around him. But these wolves didn't sound right. Their voices were discordant and rough, like the wolves were injured. In fact, what Nick didn't know was that these wolves were dead, brought back from the grave by the curse of undeath. A never-ending hunger fed them. Blood, any blood was good enough for these wolves, and they'd caught Nicks scent. The moment the wolves began howling, Nick completely lost it. He ran, through the corpses of trees, the endless darkness, desperately escaping from the blood hungry wolves that chased him. The aching pain of his bruises was soon forgotten in the heat and rush of pure terror. A few times Nick tripped on an exposed tree root, and shot back up again, afraid that the wolves would catch him. For five minutes he ran, but even though he knew he must have run a kilometre, the wolves it seemed, would not be put off so easily. Nick suddenly sprang out of the woodland onto a rough, well-walked path. With a sigh of relief, he now knew that he had a chance. But that hope shattered when he heard the howl of a wolf not fifty metres away. Ironically Nick realised he had reached safety, but that he was just a few minutes too late. Nick turned to face the sinister trees only to hear the harrowing cries and yelps of the wolves. The sounds of dead meat ripping and wolves screaming told Nick that the wolves were being butchered. But by what? When Nick finally understood the reality of the situation and realised the wolves were all dead; he heard the footsteps of something large and menacing approach Nick from within the trees. He could notice the outline of a shadow, huge and intimidating. Nick was frozen in terror. Having barely recovered from his last experience of exercise, he made a split-second decision to make a run for it. With a slow, unusual twist, the world took on a green tinge as Nick turned, and ran into the distance like a demon itself was after him. Within seconds of Nick's desperate escape, the demon in the shadows stepped out onto the road, having caught his prey, only to find his prey to have disappeared suddenly. The demon could smell his prey, and found the trail to lead further down the long path ahead of him. The demon smiled. The chase was on.

The green tinge faded to be replaced with the same dark dead forest. Nick stopped running being out of breath, and turned to see if the creature was behind him. To his surprise, it wasn't, and the trees and background looked unfamiliar to his tired eyes. _"Must be a trick of the light," _he thought to himself as he looked up at the unholy light that glared from the moons, and turned his back from the incredible distance he had run. _"No one can run that fast". _He quickly decided to walk onward, step by agonising step. The trees continued in a similar fashion to what he had already seen in whichever direction he looked and the sun had showed no sign of appearing. A strong harsh wind began after ten minutes of walking and the bitter cold of the evening night chilled Nick to his core. For the next couple of hours he shivered his way along the path, trudging steadily. On his walk, he had failed to see any trace of a pathway left or right of the road. He slowly fell into a kind of trance as he began to wonder if anyone at his school even cared that he had disappeared. He imagined his "friends" continuing with their lives, having already forgotten about Nick. He saw his mother weeping, telling the police that she wanted him home. He also imagined Sara, sitting on her bed, in her bedroom staring out of her window, just waiting for him to return. That latter thought pulled him from his stupor and convinced him to keep walking with greater purpose. Within a few minutes, he saw an odd building off to his left raised on a steep hill in the distance. His hopes were raised as images of safety and shelter against the freezing wind entered his mind to fight the ever-pressing darkness surrounding him. As he got closer, he discovered a plain stone tower raised on the hill. But in despair his hopes were shattered as he saw the ruin and decay which covered the tower. He saw half the battlements and the southern side of the circular wall to have been smashed beyond repair. The rest was clearly uninhabited, due to the broken wood and stone littering the floor. There was no sign of light anywhere near or in the tower. At the junction in the road, Nick read the broken, rotting sign, which said on it, "Crown Guard Tower". Nick again looked up at the desolate tower on the hill and pondered, _"What sort of place have I come to?" _Nick began to follow the smaller side path that left up the hill towards the tower. He hoped there might be shelter from the hellish wind somewhere in the tower. But before he could take a few steps he began to feel something behind him. A sort of malevolent presence that sent shivers running down his spine. As he slowly turned to face this _presence_, he saw, running between the trees that same black shade, racing through the shadows of the trees towards him. Nick instantly span around and sprinted down the path, knowing that the thing was gaining on him. He quickly ran his way to another junction where a small decrepit signpost on the side of the road told him that it was one kilometre southwest to a place named Darrowshire, down a small less trodden path. He soon reached the path and in a state of panic, did not look back as he raced down the path, as fast as his injured legs could take him, towards Darrowshire, and hopefully, safety. The demonic shade smiled as he realised his preys destination, and knowing he had his prey cornered in the desolate town, set off after him, towards the ruins of Darrowshire.


	4. Chapter 3: A Heroes Awakening

Time. He was running out of time. Trees and woodland flashed past him as he ran on, feet pounding against the rough stone floor. All the bruises and injuries he had sustained were made worse by his bone weary exhaustion. Every breath was labored and painful but still he pressed on, aching his way to what he hoped was safety. He could feel the presence behind him slowly draw away as he began to outrun the thing that was chasing him. Opposing feelings of hope and desperation carried him on as Darrowshire came into sight. His eyes were bleary from the running and unluckily, he couldn't see the condition of the town he ran at, so he still kept running, ignorant of his false hope, on and on. _"Three hundred metres to go"_ he thought quickly as he counted down the distance. He could no longer feel the presence behind him, but instead of reassuring him, it caused him to worry and panic even more as to things whereabouts. Faster and faster, slower and slower, no matter how fast he tried to run he knew he was gradually slowing down, and worse was he knew, there was nothing he could do about it. _"200 metres" _Nick could no longer feel his arms or his legs and he no longer felt the dull aching pain from them. At 150 metres he began to slow down as all the energy in his body quickly flowed out of him. His mind became fuzzy and slow. Oxygen deprivation causing his vision to blur and he began to see black and white spots dart in front of his eyes. And still he pressed on. Just before he reached the 100-metre mark he stopped, and sheer momentum almost dragged him to the ground. He couldn't go any further. Fear and pain no longer carried him as his exhaustion washed them away. _"What'__s the point", _he thought to himself, struggling to breath. Hopelessness filled him, as he honestly believed there was no chance he would make it to the town. He felt the darkness all around, calling him to give up and give in. Nick slowly began to retreat within himself; the hopelessness and the desperation filled his being until he couldn't stand it. He fell to the floor, resting on his knees. Nick was lost to the shadows. Until, the idea, that single idea that had filled with hope in that alleyway, the thought that people should stand up and fight for what they believe. Fight against things like the beatings and the injuries, the cruelty and the hardship, all the terrible things Frank Redwoods and his cronies had done to him. The idea that someone should stand up and say no. Suddenly, that very thought filled his mind, spreading and growing. "Why is this happening to me?" he said, his voice rasping and croaking out of his dry, parched mouth. _"I shouldn't__ have to take this"._ Slowly, he raised himself up, standing tall against the grim surroundings. The shadows around him lost their threatening appearance for just a second, as Nick fought the fear and the darkness, which clawed at his mind.

Slowly but surely, he started jogging, the little energy he had left flooding his systems like a drug, and moving his aching muscles and joints. The metres flashed past his sight and before he knew it he had made it to the outskirts of the ruined town. Nick didn't notice the burned down houses or broken weapons and scattered bones, which littered the floor as he ran past. He staggered into the centre of the town, towards the small stone well with a pail and bucket, and when he stood a foot away from it, his strength gave out and his legs gave in. He collapsed onto the well, his arms sluggishly draped over the wall. His heart beating furiously, pounding against his ribcage as he breathed heavily. He had made it. Nick had never been so overjoyed in his life. But where had he made it to? Once Nick's breathing had begun to normalize, He leaned against the well to get his balance as he stood and viewed the town he had come to. Slowly Nick's hope began to die, inch by inch as he saw the ruined houses and the destruction all around him. The terrible morbid feeling the town gave him made him stumble back away from the well in shock and alarm. But before Nick could even cry out in terror, he stopped dead still. The presence that had been chasing him along the road he'd just run along had reappeared to his senses. Right behind him. The terror almost overwhelmed Nick's battered senses that were barely controlled by reason and logic. But Nick was tired. Tired of running, tired of being afraid, tired of waking up every morning knowing he was going to have a shit day. And so, finally, no longer caring about the fear, he slowly turned around to face a monster. The first thing that hit Nick was the massive demonic horns that curled upwards on the monsters head. They were large and demonic, like something out of hell. The dark, twisted armour that covered the creature was inscribed with nightmarish runes, which seemed to writhe and move across the armour like a snake. Large, leathery bat like wings were attached to the creature's back, thin bluish veins pulsing across the membrane of the wings. What scared Nick most of all was the monsters face. A sinister, evil grin that stretched from one ear to the other, filled with dagger like teeth, filed to deadly points. And lastly, a pair of pale green eyes that seemed to stare straight through him right into his soul. Nick looked up into those piercing eyes and lost every last bit of hope he had. The creature's grin became even larger as it looked at Nick and with a strong but monstrous voice it spoke.

"I must say boy, you have led me on quite a chase, much longer and more… exciting than my other prey. But I'm afraid that the game is up." The monster chuckled darkly to himself as he advanced on Nick. Frozen in fright, Nick could do nothing as the creature approached him. Out of nowhere, a spark of courage appeared within him and Nick had the courage to say,

"What, don't I get the pleasure of knowing my killers identity before I die?" The monster stopped, almost as shocked as Nick at his sudden outburst.

"Very well human." spoke the demon. "I am the lord Zenedar, one of the nathrezim, a Dreadlord. Who was charged by the Lich King to look over these pestilent lands." _"What the hells a Lich King?"_ Nick thought to himself. While the Dreadlord carried on talking, Nick hurriedly looked around for some kind of escape and, as if the Dreadlord read his mind he said, "Trying to run, boy?" it snarled, once again advancing on Nick. Nick had no time at all to avoid the monsters giant clawed hand as it swung at him. The massive razor-sharp talons that were the monster's fingers sliced through Nick's left bicep, the force of the blow spinning Nick around and catapulting him into the ground a few feet away. Nick cried out from the burning pain in his arm, yelling and swearing loudly. Blood poured out of the wound, but Nick realized luckily that the demon hadn't punctured an artery. When Nick looked up, He saw the demon standing over him, grinning once again, blood slowly dripping from his monstrous claw. Nick immediately backed away to the edge of the well, desperately looking for a way out.

"There is no escape. You cannot fight it. Give in, surrender to the darkness and accept your fate." Nick again looked into those dreadful eyes,

"Get on with it then." Nick spoke softly.

It was at that point that Nick realized he had given up. Nick had never felt so alone, so helpless. All it reminded him of was the beatings he had received at the hands of Frank Redwoods. _"I am such a coward,"_ Nick thought angrily as the Dreadlord drew his arm back for the final swing. But he knew there was nothing within his power that he could do. Thoughts of cowardice and countless beatings instantly filled Nick's mind as the Dreadlord roared in satisfaction and victory. Nick just wished he could do something. If only he had more courage, more bravery. If only he had more time. And then suddenly, miraculously, time slowed down.

Nick stood, looking away, leaning on the well cringing in fear from the Dreadlord's cruel clawed hand, waiting for the blow that would finish him. But the blow never came. In confusion, Nick slowly looked up to see an impossible sight. The Nathrezim stood before him, his arm ever so slowly inching its way towards him at a ridiculously slow speed. Not only that, but the entire world had taken on an eerie green tinge to it, like it was held in some kind of green amber. The demon's armour shone like a sinister emerald, the monster eyes even more green than before, still filled with satisfaction and pleasure. Nick turned to view his surroundings, at the ruined buildings and the ghastly trees, all held motionless by the phenomenon that had occurred. Nick had only one explanation for what had happened. _"I've slowed down time."_ Nick looked back up at the Dreadlord, the clawed arm slowly reaching for Nick's head. Nick suddenly realised that he now had all the time in the world to save himself. His epiphany made him remember his feelings of cowardice, and now realising he had the power to fight back, quickly looked around for some kind of object he could use to fight with. While surveying the area around him, Nick noticed impaled in the ground just next to the well, the broken handle of one of the swords that were dotted around the town. _"What the hell's a sword doing here?" _Nick thought, not complaining as he reached for the handle. He pulled and swiftly the jagged remains of a shattered sword was in his hand. The blade itself was only seven or eight inches long, with a long thin point remaining on the rusted metal. Turning back to face the Dreadlord head on, he waited patiently as the clawed hand swung round to rip Nick's face off. Nick easily stepped back to narrowly avoid the claw, and bent down low, ready to spring forward at an instant. As the creature's hand passed Nicks face, Nick knew that the creature would not have the time to bring it back round, or to move the its other arm in time to stop him. Focussing intently on his aim, Nick suddenly shot forward like a bullet from a gun, jumping up to reach the eight and a half foot monster, stabbing the broken sword upwards impossibly quick. In that moment, the demon's expression of savage glee turned to horrified fear as Nick's stab struck home. Right through the creature's right eyeball, deep into its skull.

Time snapped back to normal and Nick overbalanced, crashing to the ground, the Dreadlord stunned and also knocked back a few feet. It stood there, shock clear on its face, still as the grave for a few seconds. And within moments it screamed. A terrible, hollowing cry that echoed throughout the eastern plaguelands for miles around. The Dreadlord stumbled around, blood and brain juice pouring from the ruined eye socket. With its other eye, it looked deep into Nick's own eyes, a look that conveyed complete hate and loathing, promising revenge. Zenedar, lord of the eastern plaguelands toppled backwards like a felled tree, never to rise again. Nick stood in absolute astonishment as he took in what had just happened. But before he could truly celebrate, his mind became fuzzy and his eyesight blurred. Just like Zenedar had a moment before, Nick collapsed to the ground in an injured heap. He noticed as he lay on the ground that his injured arm was giving an uncomfortable tingling sensation, but before Nick could say a word about it, his eyes closed and he slept.


	5. Chapter 4: Nightmares

The welcoming sound of birds cheeping and water flowing was all Nick could hear as he floated gently across a crystal clear river, looking up at the bright blue sky above him. The sun was high and shone down on the water, making it sparkle and shine like a river made of diamonds. A soft wind blew Nick slowly down the river, as he swam, drifting on the edge of consciousness. A loud harsh dong shattered Nick's surroundings and brought with it a sudden feeling of weightlessness, as the river around him disappeared, replaced by a bottomless chasm of emptiness. Nick fell, falling down into the deepest recesses of his mind. When he finally stopped, his surroundings were unclear and uncertain. Nick still however had a strong sense that he was falling, even though he knew he was standing up. In his disillusioned state, he noticed an intense fog begin to appear, covering and hiding everything within it. _"I'__m dreaming,"_ thought Nick as he walked slowly through the dense fog around him. The fog cleared in places to show shapes and images in the mist, people he half-recognized in his dreamy state of sleepiness. A path suddenly cleared before him, directing him in a direction of its own choosing. Nick followed the path for what felt like hours, even though he knew it could only have been minutes. Nick realised it was hard to think straight in this place, all he thought he found familiar he couldn't remember, especially the scenes depicted in the foggy images around him. The images showed people and places, memories that seemed a lifetime ago. One such memory appeared to his left, a picture of Middleton with all his school friends standing around waiting for something. "_Ha! School friends, what a joke!"_ Nick thought glumly to himself. _"I don'__t have any school friends." _However the image remained and changed into a portrait of a girl with long blonde hair. Nick instantly recognised her but couldn't for the life of him remember her name. But he knew she was important in some way to him. And with a clash of lightning, a name appeared in Nick's mind. _Sarah. _With that name, Nick remembered for a split second the horrifying experience in the wood, and the monstrous creature in the ruined town. Trying to escape those memories proved impossible, and a desperate feeling of longing to return home filled him, as he stepped into the image of Middleton, and the girl who waited for him.

Nick surprisingly found himself in the main high street of Middleton. A sudden and gratifying feeling of relief filled Nick as he realised he was home. But unfortunately, Nick's relief soon turned to horror as he looked at the town he once knew. It was deserted. And not just deserted either. All the houses and shops were boarded up and abandoned. Many of them so thickly covered in dust that the paint and colour of their signs were a dull grey. This once colourful town now looked like the end of the world had hit it. Badly. Nick stumbled around, searching hopefully for any sign of life. But there wasn't any. The entire town was dead, and Nick was alone. Or so he thought. The soft sound of footsteps on tarmac reached Nick's ears as he turned to look down the high street before him. Standing in the middle of the road, staring blankly at Nick, was Sarah. Nick ran towards Sarah before stopping ten feet away from her in shock. Sarah's face was a gaunt, hallowed shell of a once beautiful face. Her skin was grey, and her sunken eye sockets were filled with two colourless eyeballs that stared emotionlessly at Nick. Worst of all Nick realised, was Sarah's arm. It was missing. A dark ripped T-shirt showed the rotten stump of an arm that had long since stopped leaking blood. Nick stumbled back in fear, terrified at the grim sight before him. Before he could run, he was transfixed by a gasping, rough voice that came from Sarah's bloody mouth.

"You abandoned us." She spoke, a terrible unfeeling sound, which grated against Nick's ears. "You left us to die at the hands of the Lich King." Nick stood for a second, a familiar feeling appearing at the mention of that name. Once again, he remembered the horrific encounter with the demon and it mentioning a Lich King too.

"I don't know what you're talking about Sarah," replied Nick, voice full of ignorance, "I didn't abandon you to anyone, I didn't even want to leave". Sarah continued looking at him as she slowly began to limp her way towards Nick. It was at this point that Nick noticed Sarah was missing a foot as well, dragging her ruined stump of an ankle in his direction. Nick turned to run, only to find hundreds of peoples slowly dragging their ruined corpses towards him as well. The entire population of Middleton surrounded Nick, whispering words and phrases that chilled Nick's heart as he heard them.

"Eat his flesh,"

"Drink his blood"

"Break his bones"

"Hear him scream"

On and on the voices spoke, Louder and louder, closer and closer. Nick was completely frozen in fright, staring wide-eyed at the zombies approaching him. They all stopped 5 feet away from him, staring hungrily at him.

"We are hungry. So hungry. Always hungry. You made us hungry. Made us starve. Now you shall pay in blood." Sarah spoke, thousands of voices repeating her words a moment after she said them, creating a chilling echo that froze Nick to his core. The zombies' arms reached out and grabbed Nick's body, holding him immobile, mouths open and watering. The rotten corpse of the thing that had once been Sarah bent over and whispered in Nick's ear,

"Hear you scream…" She grabbed his head suddenly and bent it to the side. She opened her mouth; jagged teeth ready to rip open Nick's neck like a vampire. Nick struggled desperately against the arms that held him but to no avail.

"I'm sorry, really! This isn't real; you're not real, your all-just figments of my imagination. This never happened!" yelled Nick to himself and the dead that plagued the street. Sarah looked deep into his eyes and said,

"No, but it will." She said angrily, face no longer empty and emotionless, now filled with undying hate. "Hero of Azeroth!" Those last few words she spoke sarcastically, spitting them out of her mouth like they were a curse. Before Nick could comprehend what she had said and before Sarah could kill him, the falling sensation that had previously continued to fill him disappeared as the ground seemed to slam back into his feet as he collapsed upwards from the depths of his mind, back into reality.

Nick was barely awake as he blearily opened his eyes. His battered body felt both extremely hot and extremely cold, a numbing pain that filled both his head and his body. He could barely see around him, and could almost make out the blurred shapes of people above him, conversing with each other, oblivious to Nick's awakening. He noticed the people were speaking, words and phrases he could just make out over the numbing pain.

"Can you help him?" Said one person, a woman's voice from what Nick could gather. She had a determined and strong voice, a voice that one rarely spoke back to.

"I can try, but that thing ripped his arm good and proper. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't make it." This was definitely a mans voice, he spoke in a hushed tone as if he didn't want to be discovered while hiding. _"Ripped his arm?" _Thought Nick as the pieces of memory in his mind started to piece themselves together.

"_He'__s talking about me!" _Nick realised as the pain worsened and his hearing began to fade. He just about managed to hear the shock in the voices above him and his dreams descended back into nightmares.

Nick once again found himself in the foggy under-mind of his subconscious. With nothing else to do, he walked on again through the mist, constantly checking around him for any signs of loose zombies. The ground slowly beginning to slope upwards, a massive staircase appearing before him as he slowly ascended. The images all around him returned, but instead of replaying his memories, they showed different moments. Some showed heroic battles from ancient times. Some again showed people and places, but Nick had never seen these in his life. Higher and higher he walked, on and on through the fog, not knowing where he was going or where the path was taking him. The air around him soon began to grow colder, stiller, like that feeling when something bad is about to happen. Anticipation filled Nick as he walked, the stairs finally reaching their end. Nick noticed over the edge of the hill a giant image that showed a massive tower, dark and mysterious, looming over a frozen wasteland. He saw the walls were made of some kind of metal, which did not shimmer or shine in the dark gloomy light that barely broke through the thick clouds. What interested Nick most of all, at the base of the tower a tremendous battle was taking place. Soldiers garbed in medieval armour fought nightmarish monsters that were neither living nor dead. Their eyes glowing a harsh blue, every one of them slaughtering soldiers around them. It was chaos. Out of nowhere, the picture in the fog closed in on the top of the spire as a horrendous yell echoed across the battlefield. Nick saw a circular chamber atop the spire, with a morbidly garbed man wearing armour, covered in skulls and deathly symbols, standing over the corpse of a man wearing glorious shining armour. The words that echoed across the battlefield were clear to Nick's ears.

"FROSTMOURNE HUNGERS!" The man in the deathly armour swiftly looked up at where Nick was standing watching the event unfold. An awful smile spread across the mans face, his eyes also glowing a harsh blue like the dead monstrosities below. The man seemed to diffuse into a ghostly essence before disappearing completely. A powerful voice behind Nick spoke with a horrid combination of two voices. "I have waited long for you to appear, hero." Nick spun round to see that same man standing behind him. The armour looked even scarier close up, the eyes even more so. "And now, after all this time you have." The fog around his disappeared, to be replaced by the surroundings and buildings of Darrowshire. Nick stumbled back to the same well as the man approached him menacingly. "I will find you hero, and then finally, Azeroth will be mine!" Nick once again, drew the ruined stump of the sword he had used before from the ground and hoped desperately time would slow down again. The man looked at his weapon and laughed, the terrifying discordant voice that was two, ground against Nicks ears causing him to cup them in agony. The man stepped closer, looming over Nick's hunched body as he said, "Kneel before the Lich king, Lord of the scourge, undeniable ruler of Azeroth!" Nick fell to his knees as visions assaulted his mind, visions of the past, the present and the future combining into one horrific product that was, the Lich King. The Lich King pulled back his cloak, revealing the handle of a weapon. He drew a sword unlike anything Nick had ever seen. The very hilt constructed like the skull of a ram, the blade jagged on one side and straight on the other. A sword designed for pain. Runes carved down the centre glowed with the same harsh blue light, glowing brighter as the Lich King raised the blade above his head, ready to strike downwards and end Nick's life. But suddenly, Nick could sense a light, a feeling of warmth and safety. Nick immediately understood it as a chance at salvation, and he grabbed it recklessly with both hands. In an instant, A blinding golden sword made of pure light was in his hands. Just as the Lich King's sword swung downwards at Nick, Nick swung upward and sliced through the dark blade like it was butter. He continued on, slicing through the Lich King's torso as he disappeared into nothingness on impact with the sword. The light left his hands and directed him upwards. He followed the light, the only beacon in a mind full of darkness. Wherever the light went, the darkness was banished, replaced by similar light, which also shone and lit up other parts of his mind. This continued again and again until Nick's mind was rid of the corruption, and full of light. When the mysterious light vanished, Nick finally felt relaxed, and slept a dreamless sleep.

**(Authors Note) Sorry everyone for the long upload but I have had a lot going on. Good news is that I am free for a while and should be able to upload much faster, so keep reading and of course, review please**


	6. Chapter 5: Discovery

A bright gleam of sunlight from a boarded up window greeted Nick as he awoke from his sleep. A small, dull, aching pain echoed inside his head, accompanied by a familiar pain across his body, although he noticed the pain was much less now than it was before, which unfortunately brought back the horrific memories of what had happened earlier that night. Shivering, Nick cleared his tired eyes and struggled to sit up from where he lay. As he sat up he took a good look at the room he was laying in. Dank, grimy walls covered in mould surrounded him, pictures that had long since burned were hung up on the walls. A large wooden table was situated in the centre of the room which Nick had been laying on, also blackened in places from some kind of fire. To his left were some boarded windows where the thin rays of light that illuminated the room came from. _"How in god's name did I get here?" _Nick thought to himself as he squinted at the light, which blinded him. Turning away to shield his eyes, he noticed to the right a simple wooden chair and a small table that reminded Nick of the coffee table in his living room back home. Sitting in the simple chair was an interesting looking man sleeping heavily, draped against the arms of the chair. He wore an intricately coloured robe with exciting patterns and designs on it, the pictures dancing across the fabric in bright, positive colours. Nick could only guess the mans age to be in his mid-thirties, judging from his relatively youthful appearance which was heavily contrasted with his slightly greying hair. Nick, not wanting to wake the unusually dressed man, tried to quietly sit up and silently push himself up off the table so not to alarm him. In reality however, on trying to support himself on his arms, a sharp pain hit him in his upper left arm where the Dreadlord had sliced through his bicep. His arms collapsed from under him and he unluckily rolled off the table and slammed into the floor with a painfully loud thud. The man in the chair was immediately roused from his slumber and started, eyes wide, jumping around the room until they lay on Nick's prone form on the floor. Nick, feeling sheepish, stood up as quickly as his body could manage, trying not to look like a total idiot. The man, obviously having noticed Nick's blunder, smiled at him from his seat.

"Good morning" said the man in a slightly amused tone of voice. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of greeting one another. My name's Damian, yours?" The man named Damian said. Annoyed and mortified, Nick narrowed his eyes at the odd man and replied,

"Nick. Nick Shepherd." Suspicion filled Nick's mind as he again, looked over the mans odd taste in clothes. "This will probably sound completely stupid but, where the hell am I?" Nick turned around and looked out of the gap in the window, looking down at the centre of a small town. Nick remembered instantly that the town was called Darrowshire, and once again the memories of the previous night hit him like a sledgehammer. He stumbled back into the large table, disorientated and confused. Damian, sudden concern evident on his face, stood quickly and walked over to Nick, telling him to get back onto the table and lie down. Nick, being in no fit state to argue, complied and got back onto the table. Damian then unfurled Nick's white school shirt to reveal a long, pink scar, which looked raw and freshly healed. Nick looked at it in amazement; convinced that there had been a massive gash in place of the scar earlier that evening.

"Hold still" The odd man said as he rolled up his sleeves. Suddenly, a soft glowing light appeared in Damian's cupped palms. Damian held the light and placed it over Nick's injured arm, and Nick watched in further amazement as the scar tissue on his arm grew less and less pink and faded slowly until almost no mark remained. During the process a warm, glowing feeling had filled Nick and he almost felt sad when the feeling left. Damian visibly sighed in exhaustion and walked back round the table to sit down again in the chair. "I wouldn't try to move around too much, you've just recovered from a deadly plague which has killed hundreds of people before you." Damian said, concern in his voice. "You might be a bit weak, and you lost allot of blood in the healing" Nick, struggling to comprehend what had happened, immediately ignored the mans order and sat up abruptly.

"What was that?" exclaimed Nick; feeling obliged to understand the astonishing event that he had just partaken in.

"What was what?" replied Damian, confusion evident on his tired face.

"That shiny, pretty light, thing!" stammered Nick, lost for words Damian's confusion deepened upon Nick's answer.

"What, you've never seen a healing done before?"

"No. I can't say I have." Nick said in a sarcastic voice. Damian acknowledged the comment and sank into the armchair. "So, how did you, you know, do the fancy light show?" Asked Nick innocently. Confusion appeared once again on Damian's face as he replied,

"With the power of the light obviously!" Damian scoffed, "Everyone knows that. I mean, it comes with being a holy priest of Light's Hope Chapel" A sudden expression of melancholy spread across Damian's features. "Well, Ex-priest of Light's hope Chapel…" From Nick's perspective, Damian seemed lost in his memories. An aching sadness filled Nick as he saw the way Damian stared through the window at the clouded sky. Emptily. Hopelessly. Unable to stand the terrible silence Nick asked,

"What happened?" Damian looked round sharply, looking straight into Nick's eyes.

"What happened? What happened? Arthas happened! That bastard took his unholy armies and burnt the chapel, and every last bit of hope we had left, to the ground!" He exclaimed, shouting loudly, his voice full of passion and anger. "Just like the rest of Azeroth." His eyes burned with malicious hate for just a second, which somehow looked fitting on the ex-priest's face. Damian continued to look into Nick's shocked and unknowing eyes, obviously oblivious to what Damian had just said.

"What are you talking about?" Nick said, completely baffled. Damian sobered instantly and stared, eyes having lost that hate only to be replaced by bewilderment and shock. He slowly walked over to Nick to stand shoulders width from him. Incomprehension was covered across Nick's face as Damian continued to stare in shock and something akin with what Nick thought might be fear.

"You really don't know, do you?" Damian spoke softly. He continued to stare at Nick for a few seconds, until the awkward silence was broken by a loud slamming noise from somewhere downstairs. Damian's head swung round to face the door, his body tense. He slowly moved to the door and opened it just a crack to peer beyond. Recognition flooded his face as he eased the door close, and abruptly marched over to Nick. "Lie back on the table, quick as you can!" Nick, complied, albeit slightly confused at the mans odd instruction.

"Uh, why?" Nick said. Damian swiftly looked back at the door again.

"Alright, listen to me. Lie still and don't move. Pretend to be asleep like you were before or something like that, okay?" Damian rushed over to the armchair and hurriedly sat down, trying and failing to look inconspicuous.

"Look, I still don't see why I…." Nick asked, interrupted by the loud screech of rusty hinges as the door opened. Within moments Nick was frozen still, trying desperately to look asleep. He heard padded footsteps walk across the room and stand by where Damian was sitting.

"Has he woken up yet?" Asked a rough female voice impatiently. Nick was tempted by the sudden urge to peer through his eyelids and see who was standing with Damian.

"Not yet no. I've just finished healing his arm and then when I've recovered, I'll wake him" lied Damian, unskillfully trying to lie his teeth off. He heard what appeared to be a growl, come from the general direction where the woman was. _"I guess one peak can't hurt,"_ thought Nick, as he ever so slowly opened his eyes a fraction, just enough so that he could see who the woman was. Or from what Nick could see, _what_ she was. Standing next to where Damian sat was what looked like a giant humanoid dog. A large canine snout protruded from the women's face, as well as razor sharp teeth that glinted in the light from the window. Large pointed ears stuck up from her head, as well as determined looking eyes that shone like burnished gold. As well as this, the women's legs were stretched hind legs, which ended in a giant foot like paw that was softly, rested on the ground. And to top it all off, the women was covered from head to toe in what Nick could only describe as fur. Completely forgetting to try and act asleep, he bolted upright at the sight of the women with a yell. Too many weird and freaky things had happened since he'd arrived here, and this was the last straw. _"First a nightmarish monster that tried to kill me, next an odd looking man who can conjure magic light, and finally this!". _The two people looked over at Nick from where they were sitting. Alarm was evident on Damian's face while the only thing Nick could discern on the wolf-woman's face was mild surprise. She continued to look at Nick for another few seconds before turning back to Damian.

"Well I guess he's awake now. Have him ready to work in two hours." She turned to look back at Nick again. "If he's going to stay, he might as well help out around here." With cunning grace only a wolf can achieve, she padded out of the room and closed the door. Nick stared after her, still stunned from the "woman's" shocking appearance.

"W…what the hell was that" Nick said, trembling as he spoke. Damian looked at him from the armchair, exhausted, as if he had just lifted ten kilos.

"That," Damian said, letting out a tired breath, "was Fiona." Nick continued to look completely disorientated as his whole world came crashing down around down him. Damian picked up on Nick's lack of knowledge in an instant.

"Come on, you must know what a worgen is." Damian said impatiently. Unfortunately for him however, Nick did not know what a worgen was, or had ever seen one before in his life. A few seconds later, Nick started to panic.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?" Nick yelled, startling Damian. Worried, Damian desperately tried to calm Nick down as he started ranting about wanting to go home and never having seen a worgen and wanting a nice warm hot chocolate. "ALTHOUGH I BET YOU DON'T HAVE CHOCOLATE HERE EITHER DO YOU? NOPE, DIDN'T THINK SO!" Nicks rant carried on for a few minutes before he finally calmed down enough, realising he was beginning to hyperventilate. Breathing deeply, he looked over at Damian who had retreated behind the coffee table, a look of fear evident on his startled face. Suddenly guilty, Nick said, "uh, sorry about that. I guess I've had a bad day and, well, with the uh… worgen and the Dreadlord well, I got a bit, you know, aggravated." Damian slowly recovered and climbed out from behind the table.

"It's okay, I should have realised sooner what the problem was." Damian said calmly as he sat back in the chair and stared intently at Nick's face. "What do you remember about Azeroth Nick?" asked Damian. _"Oh my god," _Nick thought, _"He thinks I have amnesia." _

"Don't worry though, it's perfectly normal for some people when they are in stress to lose their memory. But most of them remember sooner or later anyway"

"Ah, no. There been some kind of mistake." Nick proceeded to tell Damian that he did remember everything and told him all about Middleton and where he was from. As Nick explained, Damian's face turned from interest to amazement. When Nick had finished, Damian leant over and, speaking quietly, asked Nick,

"You're not from Azeroth, are you?" Nick, on hearing that word again replied,

"What is Azeroth?" A look of sheer wonderment crossed Damian's face.

"This is Azeroth! The ground we stand on, the lands we live in, the very planet that we are on, is Azeroth!" In that single moment, Nick finally realised that he wasn't in Kansas any more. The room seemed to sway around Nick as he lost his balance and stumbled. He could barely hear Damian's alarmed voice as Nick, the events of the morning and the sudden realisation of his location, became too much of a shock to his already battered mind. Nick took that moment to roll off the table and collapse on the floor and faint.


	7. Chapter 6: Meet the Neighbours

Nick awoke shortly after fainting and, after taking a few short breaths, managed to accept the reality of what was happening. _"I'm not on Earth." _Nick pondered, _"I'm on another planet." _Nick suddenly had a giggling fit at the ridiculous nature of that thought. Damian was pacing around the room thinking hard.

"Okay, you're not going to like this but your going to have to keep this whole other world thing a secret. If everyone in town found out that you weren't from Azeroth, well, they'd freak out." Damian said, walking over to Nick, helping stand him up.

"What do I tell people if they ask about me then?" Nick asked intrigued, "Say that I lost my memory or some crazy thing like that?" Damian walked Nick over to the door and opened it, the rusty hinges squealing terribly.

"Yes, exactly that. If everyone believes that you don't remember anything, then they should leave you alone." They both walked into a long thin corridor, the ceiling at the left end completely collapsed the sun shining brightly into the room. Damian led Nick to the rotten stairs and they both walked down into the lobby of what Nick could only describe as some kind of inn. A large friendly fireplace was positioned on the far side of the room; more burnt picture frames covered the walls and the whole room smelt of cooking food. Out of a door on the left wall, a large rotund man walked out with a bowl of what looked like some form of watery porridge. Upon noticing Nick he quickly strolled over as fast as his large frame could go and with his free right hand took Nick's own hand and furiously began shaking it, almost pulling Nick's arm out of his socket.

"Bravo my son, well done indeed. I haven't seen that kind of bravery and heroism in a long time. And don't worry, the porridge is free!" exclaimed the man, speaking too quickly for Nick to acknowledge what he had said. The man, a large broad grin on his face, walked past Nick to go upstairs, giving nick big pat on Nick's back as he went. Almost spilling the porridge the strange man had given him, Nick walked over to the table in the corner of the room and sat down to eat.

"You're going to get a lot of that, by the way." Damian spoke as Nick wolfed down the tasteless porridge in front of him.

"A lot of what?" Nick asked innocently, his mouth full of food.

"Praise. For what you did last night." Nick swallowed his porridge and slowly looked at Damian.

"What do you mean, what I did?" Damian looked at Nick, an incredulous expression on his face.

"What you did," said Damian, "Is kill one of the most powerful Dreadlord's on Azeroth single-handed with a broken rusted blade." The contents of Nick's mouth splattered out of his mouth onto the table as Nick choked on the watery porridge.

"I didn't'… that's not… really?" Nick stuttered his face a prime example of utter disbelief.

"Uh huh" Damian said, shaking his head with a knowing smile, "I don't know how you did it but you are one lucky man if what you said was true." Nick frowned deeply as he remembered exactly how he'd killed that monster, and he remembered how time slowed down. However, Nick had a strong feeling that telling Damian about his timely experience would not end well, so Nick guiltily said nothing, and finished eating the porridge. Once he'd eaten, Damian took the bowl and went through the door into what Nick could only guess was the kitchen. While Damian was gone, Nick thoroughly tried to compose his story and what he would tell people if they asked him who he was. After about ten seconds Nick realised this was much harder than he imagined it would be. As if on cue, Damian walked back into the room and told Nick to follow him outside. "Most of the villagers are happy you're here and appreciate what you did, but," Damian said simply, looking right at Nick, "some are, less than satisfied at you sudden appearance here." And before Nick could conjure a reply, Damian opened the door and they both stepped out into the sunshine.

Nick was shocked. The town had a completely different appearance in the day than it had when Nick arrived the night before. The buildings and the surroundings still had that grim, morbid feel to them but what surprised Nick most were the amount of people walking around the town square. Last night Nick could have sworn the entire town was deserted, and Nick decided to ask Damian about that as they walked across the square.

" We've been living here for several years and we know how to hide at night." Said Damian as they walked on." As they walked on, Nick noticed that the people in the town had the same, grey expression on their face. None of them smiled, and some even looked fearful, like they expected today to be their last day on Earth. _"No, not Earth. Azeroth."_ Nick corrected himself quickly. After passing the stone well in the centre of town, Nick was instantly shocked as he noticed that the Dreadlord's body had completely gone. All that was left was one of its twisted horns that lay on the blooded ground, appearing as if patiently waiting for something. As Damian and Nick approached the horn, the people walking around slowly became aware of Nick and stopped what they were doing to stare at him. Some looked at him with hope in their eyes, others with malice and hatred. Nick turned round and started as he saw that everyone in town was staring at him. Before Nick could even utter a word, a loud voice carried across the town and gathered everyone's attention.

"Alright alright, stop gawking at him and get back to work!" said the Fiona the worgen as she strolled across the courtyard to where Nick and Damian were standing. Nick was frozen. _"Oh God, its her. Just try to act as natural as you can when confronted by a wolf woman!" _Nick thought to himself as Fiona squared up to Nick and stared directly through his eyes into his mind. "So," said Fiona, "you finally woke up then." Nick remained silent, eyes wide in shock. Fiona turned impatiently to Damian. "He's a quiet one ain't he? Get him working in the fields as soon as he's able." She turned back to Nick. "Unless he has any problems with that? Didn't think so." She said as Nick mouth still refused to form words. Fiona turned and walked away from the pair, crossing the yard to yell at some other person who looked as equally shocked as Nick felt. Damian bent down to pick up the horn and after a few hurried words, the horn shone brightly for a few seconds. After the horn had stopped, he walked back over to Nick and held out the horn to him.

"Here you go, a nice trophy for your troubles." Damian said smiling. Nick took the horn from him and it felt unnaturally cold as he held it in his hands. Nick asked where the body was and Damian replied, "Were not actually sure, by the time we ran over to you last night, the body had sort of, disappeared. But don't worry," Damian quickly said cheerfully, on noticing Nick's worried expression, "you killed that thing good and proper. It's not coming back." Nick was less than assured by that but he remained quiet.

While Nick stood quietly staring wide-eyed at the horn in his hand, Damian decided it would be a good time to take a tour of the town. He pointed out the stable; which held the twenty horses the town still had left and the barn containing the meagre crops and the various animals the town owned. Damian also told Nick to be wary of a certain individual named Vincent Blackmoor.

"He's a nasty piece of work. He used to be a brigand and a thief before the plague wars, and now he basically runs the whole town. We don't dare speak out because he'll get his thugs on us." He continued on to name some of the other friendly faces they passed. "That's Jennifer and Dylan Newmark, they're newly-weds I married a few days ago. They're both deeply in love with each other. And that's Argus Highbeacon over by the door. He's the only blacksmith we got. He's very good and great friends with Fiona, although I'm not sure why. Over there is Seamus Diggins, head of the town council, if you can call it that. Oh and that's…" Damian went on to name some more people, but Nick wasn't listening. Soon the two of them had reached the outskirts of town and approached the small field in front of them. One of the farmers stopped digging and looked up to see the two men approach him. He had a thick black beard and moustache along with a mess of long ratty black hair to match.

"Ah, you're here. Fiona told me you'd be around at some point." He spoke shaking Nick's hand and smiling grimly, "The names Marcus. You'll be digging out some potatoes for the winter store. Don't mind getting a bit dirty do you?" Nick shook his head. "Excellent. Grab a shovel and get started." Nick, feeling he had something to prove to these honest people, tucked the wicked horn into his belt and got straight to work. Damian left soon after to tend to some other ill people living in the ruined town, and Nick was alone with his thoughts. He dug for hours, thinking of home and all the things he missed. Every action, every movement felt numb and unreal. Nothing was the same. Nick had been catapulted into a world of death and war and he didn't know what to do. Just another helpless person in this God-forsaken town. As Nick shovelled dirt and picked out fresh potatoes, he noticed a few of the men around him whispering to eachother and giving him weird looks. A loud wringing bell snapped Nick out from his thoughts and he saw the other men walk over to Marcus and take small loaves of bread off him. Realising it must be the equivalent of Lunch, walked over after the other men had taken bread and took a loaf himself. On taking one, Marcus leaned over and slid a second into his other hand.

"Here, you deserve it. You dug up more potatoes than the total of what the other guys did." Giving him a rough smile, he walked back towards the town with the rest of the bread. Nick walked back into the field, hiding the second loaf in his jacket pocket and spotted the other farmers chatting rowdily to eachother in a large circle. Nick approached the other men deciding it would be best to get to know some of the people, considering he might be here some time. However, when he reached the men they one by one began to go quiet and stare at Nick. An awkward silence endured for a few more seconds until it was broken by Nick's voice.

"Can I join you guys?" The five men who sat around the circle glanced at eachother before one of the men said,

"Uh, yeah… sure you can." Nick sat down next to a large brutish looking man with short, badly cut hair. The other men all looked vaguely normal with a few outlying features. The one on Nick's left had a long, hooked nose and sharp cunning eyes. The man next to him had a huge beard that swallowed his whole lower face in a sea of brown course hair. To his left sat the man who spoke, a very young man who couldn't have been older than mid-twenties, and wore a small, round necklace sparkling in the sickly sunshine that shone through the awful green clouds above them. And finally there was a plain, ordinary looking man with nothing to suggest he wasn't that, except his missing arm that startled Nick and he quickly turned his eyes away before the man noticed. All the people ate the stale loaves in silence, to Nick's confusion. Nick was even tempted to do the awkward turtle until the young man broke the silence to Nick's relief. "So, uh… I'm Avery, nice to meet you", said the man called Avery as he leaned over and shook Nick's hand. Avery then went on to introduce the other men around the circle while Nick desperately tried to remember their names. After introducing himself, the large brutish man to Nick's right called Myles Warner said in a low gruff voice,

"Where are you from then Nick?" Nick remembered Damian's advice and decided it would be best for the moment to stick to that story.

"I don't remember, it's all fuzzy", said Nick. After the odd looks they gave him he told them that he couldn't remember anything. He felt bad lying to all these people but at the moment he was just glad he was making friends among the new community.

"Well, what do you remember then?" said Ethan Strykes, the man with the long hooked nose and sharp eyes.

"I remember odd things, like my name, and who I am, but I don't remember other things like the war and my family. It's really confusing, knowing who you are but not being able to remember what you've done with your life." This left the circle quiet again as they all remembered their own lives.

"I envy you," said Willion Bedlam the one armed man. "I wish I could forget what happened. Forget the loss and the pain." The other farmers all nodded in assent with him. The silence was depressing, and Nick painfully thought of home and all those people who missed him. While Nick was deep in thought, Avery asked him,

"Were all dying to know Nick but, how did you do it?" At this question Nick noticed the other men all lean in and listen eagerly. Already knowing what Avery was talking about, he asked anyway,

"Do what?" The men all looked enthusiastically at eachother to ask Nick and Jeffrey; the man with the massive beard decided to take the brunt of Nick's withering stare.

"You know, kill the demon-spawn! We all watched you while you fought and well, you moved faster than I would have believed possible. Are you a mage or…?" he said excitedly to Nick. Nick was in trouble. He didn't want to have to lie but he also didn't want to reveal his unusual gift that occurred the night before. Luckily, Nick was saved by a loud horn blow that echoed from Darrowshire. However, alarm and fear immediately crossed the farmer's faces and they all quickly grabbed their harvesting tools and ran back towards town.

"What's going on?" asked Nick as he ran by Avery who was pulling his pickaxe from the ground. Avery looked back at him with fear in his eyes.

"The town's under attack." And without another word, Avery ran as fast as he could back towards Darrowshire while Nick looked on in shock.


	8. Chapter 7: The 2nd Battle of Darrowshire

Nick ran as fast as his body could carry him. Short quick breaths fuelled his aching arms and legs as he ran. Trees and bushes passed him by, all merely a blur to Nick's eyes, which were only focussed on one spot, Darrowshire. As the town got closer, Nick could start to hear the screaming that echoed from in the town, motivating Nick to greater speeds. When Nick finally reached the outskirts of town, it was like stepping into a nightmare. The streets were filled with the dead. Revolting corpses wielding all kinds of weapons stood around either attacking or going to attack one of the villagers. Some corpses didn't even have weapons and used their hands and arms to scrape and rip at peoples clothing and skin. Every single town's person had some kind of weapon. Some had swords or axes while other had simple implements such as chair legs or spades. Nick watched one poor woman grabbed by two of the horrific zombies and literally torn apart. Blood exploded from her midriff and Nick refused to watch any further, bile rising in his stomach. Nick barely heard Damian call his name over the mass of bodies and noise that echoed in the town. Nick rushed over and stood by Damian as he desperately tried to save the life of the large innkeeper who patted Nick on the back. Damian took a quick glance at Nick before returning to his patient.

"Hey kid, some heroics like the one you pulled off last night would be nice right now." Damian said as he healed a massive gash to the innkeeper's thigh. Nick backed away from Damian and stared around in fright. He didn't know what to do. People were dying and Nick was helpless. He didn't even have a weapon. As Nick ambled aimlessly around the town, one of the more gruesome zombies with half its face missing looked round towards Nick, and on noticing him advanced. Nick backed away to the wall of the inn, petrified out of his wits. The zombie approached, raising a simple longsword in its two rotten hands, ready to strike down and end Nick's life. Nick was frozen in terror. He felt more weak and helpless than he ever had done in his life. And he hated it. Knowing that he wanted to do something but also knowing that fear was in his way, stopping him. _"Even if I did do something, I would only get myself killed." _Nick told himself, trying to make himself believe that that was the reason why he stood against the wall, doing nothing. But deep down Nick knew that the absolute truth was that he was scared, and that he was too much of a coward to do anything about it. The zombie had nearly reached him. _"Only a few seconds and then it will be over. I'll wake up and I'll be in my bed, ready for school." _A large man who Nick recognised from earlier in town ran over and stood over the deceased, mutilated body of the poor woman who was torn in half. He bent down and wept over the woman, stroking her long brown hair and crying his soul out. Watching this, Nick felt impossibly sad as he also mourned the death of the woman. Nothing like that should ever happen.

And then the anger came. Pure, unbridled anger raged through his system and cleared his mind of the fears and doubts that stopped him. Nick looked up at the unliving corpse above him, reminded of the moment the dreadlord stood over him and called for his death. That furious anger was channelled into a simple, overpowering thought that blazed throughout Nick's mind. Nick had truly had enough. No more weakness. No more cowardice. No more fear. And the green tinge that signified the slowing of time appeared just as the zombie prepared to swing the longsword down towards Nick's head. With time slowed, Nick easily reached up and ripped the monstrosities hands apart, and plucked the slow moving longsword out of the air as it fell. Without a second thought, Nick took hold of the sword in both hands and swung round sharply, bringing the sharp steel of the blade whistling through the air before making contact with the zombie's neck. Flesh split and bone snapped as the sword swept clean through the neck with a combination of power and impossible speed. Nick didn't even register what he had done until he saw the creature's head slowly roll down the street away from the body it had once been connected to. In stunned shock, Nick looked down at the sword and saw the gore and rotted flesh, which lined the blade. _"No more fear." _Nick looked around at the surreal sight before him; the living dead moving in slow motion and the living huddled in fear. Few fought back now, most had forsaken weapons and either ran or given up. The sight of these innocent people being slaughtered lit the flames of Nick's anger once more. Nick decided at that exact moment, he would never give in to his fears. And the slaughter began.

Nick was a blur of motion. In one instant he impaled a slow moving ghoul and then spun round slicing it in half. In another millisecond, he was obliterating the head of another zombie that was about to end the life of Avery Gardener. With time slowed, and the undead defenceless, Nick had all the time in the world to go to each one and completely annihilate them. Nick noticed another zombie about to swing a gruesome looking broadsword toward a defenceless young girl. In no time at all the zombie was decapitated with a flourish from Nick's longsword. And as Nick moved on from unliving to unliving, rekilling and rekilling the undead monsters, he had never felt so alive in his life. Everything felt right. And so the slaughter continued.

Damian was exhausted. Healing so many people had taken its toll and now he was almost spent. He had little mana left now and the battle around him wasn't helping his concentration. He moved over to another injured man, one of the farmers he'd seen from earlier. The man had been stabbed through the lung; a fatal wound that Damian barely had the energy for healing. But he still desperately tried to heal the man. As always, Damian called for the light, muttering prayers under his breath. And it came, flowing through his arms and out his hands as a soft warm glow. He moved the light over the mans wound and he saw the wound begin to heal itself. Skin and tissue knitted together and after at least thirty seconds of this the wound was closed, raw and pink like fresh scar tissue. Damian collapsed over the man, no energy left. His mana was gone and he couldn't call on the power of the light to aid him. A menacing, guttural cry echoed from behind Damian, and he turned around, to see a ghoul standing before him, holding in its hands a massive wooden log easily capable of splitting Damian's head in two. Damian tried to cast a holy spell to destroy the creature as he had done earlier, but without his mana the light would not come. Damian stopped fighting and embraced the end, staring into the face of his killer. Until his killer exploded. Blood and rotten flesh exploded from the ghoul's body as its arms and legs were instantly separated from its torso, and its head, sliced neatly into two pieces that flew away from eachother and landed a few metres away from Damian. Damian was in shock from the gore that covered him, and barely had time to acknowledge his saviour who stood above him. And within an instant he disappeared; all that registered that he had ever been there at all was a blur of motion that was now attacking and dicing several other ghouls and zombies in the courtyard. But before it had disappeared, Damian was sure he had seen the face of Nick Shepherd staring at him, absolutely covered in rotting blood and gore, giving him a wink before moving on. _"But that's impossible. No one can move that fast." _But the evidence was before him, an unrecognisable shadow that sped from one undead to another, destroying its body before moving on. Seeing the thing rush around the town inspired Damian to act accordingly. As fast as he could, Damian stumbled over to another person and began healing her, a poor woman he knew from when he lived in Light's Hope Chapel. And as he worked, he kept an eye on his mysterious saviour, never staying in one place long enough to be truly seen, in the hope that he would truly recognise him when he stopped moving. _"If he stops," _thought Damian to himself, _"Don't stop Nick. What ever you do, don't stop." _

Another ghouls head detached itself from its plague ridden body by a sweeping strike from the large brutish axe in Nick's left hand, his right hand holding the hilt of the longsword, now absolutely covered in gore, and vile congealed blood. _"Where did I get the axe from?" _pondered Nick as he easily avoided the outstretched clawed hand of a pestilent zombie. The battle had only been going on for what must have been minutes for him in his own slowed down version of reality, and he couldn't even remember where he'd picked up the axe from. He looked down at it and saw its rusted, jagged edges, which had several chunks of dead flesh impaled on them. It was a grizzly sight, something a horror movie villain would carry. But it had its uses. Another awful looking zombie stood over the weeping man who was still staring hopelessly at the poor remains of the woman, completely unaware of the zombie about to kill him. The zombie was oozing green gunk, a cloud of terrible green gas issued from its mouth and its diseased body. The green tint the world had, turned the zombie from scary looking too completely terrifying. And as Nick had done for the past few minutes, he buried that fear and buried his monstrous axe deep into the zombie's chest, just as it was going to strike the man down. With the longsword, he quickly decapitated the undead and the kicked the lifeless corpse away, freeing the axe now covered in slime and gunk. Nick saw the distraught man look at him in awe, watching him as fast as he could as Nick moved faster than humanly possible. And they were not the only eyes watching him. By now quite a few people had noticed Nick, watching him from a distance as they protected their families, many of them also having been saved by Nick's longsword or Nick's gruesome axe. _"Better get rid of the axe when I'm done." _Thought Nick as he pulled a screaming woman from an inevitable death at the hands of a ghoul. "_It is a disgusting weapon." _At that thought, Nick burst into laughter, amused at that comment.

"Ha! I've been here 24 hours and I'm already comparing weapons." He said to noonein particular. In fact, to anyone who would have been listening over the noise of the battle and the screams of the injured, all they would have heard was a high pitched squeal. After killing a few more zombies, Nick realised that he was getting tired. His arms and legs were aching terribly, far more than they should be under normal circumstances. _"Must be the slow time thing." _He thought as the axe and longsword in his hands felt heavy and unwieldy. Nick found it harder and harder to use them, each swing taking its toll on Nick's energy, which was in short supply. But Nick fought on, his promise to never give up and never give in overwhelming his weaker thoughts of fear and pain. Nick fought for the defenceless children, the terrified villagers, but most importantly, Nick fought for the cause. Never give up, and fight for what you believe in. And what Nick believed in right at that moment, was an end to fear. And when he realised that, time instantly snapped back to normal.

Nick stumbled around for a few seconds, standing tall searching around for other zombies to kill and other people to save. But there wasn't any. All the zombies were dead; none of them even so much as trying to escape. All of the villagers were standing around the town, all of them helping eachother and checking the wounded and dead for signs of life. Nick, realising all the undead were slain, took a deep breath and relaxed. But Avery, who stood off to his left interrupted his moment of peace.

"Magnificent." Avery said, watching him, eyes wide in total awe. Nick looked at him in confusion, and then realised everyone had stopped to stare at Nick. All of them had a look of absolute amazement of their faces. Some showed awe like Avery did, others fear. And some showed jealousy such as a tall dark man who stood several metres to Nick's right, his face lit up with hatred and loathing. Nick presumed it was the man Damian had called Vincent Blackmoor, the brigand. However, Nick was still confused as to why everyone was still staring at him. _"They can't all have seen me moving, could they?" _But Nick soon realised they weren't all staring at his face, they were staring at all of him. He looked down, and saw his school clothes, his shirt, his tie, his black shoes and his smart blazer. All of it was covered in gore. Blood, guts, rotten flesh and green plague ooze covered him from head to toe, clearly showing that he had killed more undead than they had all probably seen in their lives. It also probably didn't help that he stood, raised up on a pile of corpses, like some kind of dark hero from a fantasy novel he read once. In disgust, those age old feelings of fear and cowardice rose back up to consume him. He dropped the vile axe but kept the longsword, and walked back quickly towards the inn. People moved out of his way immediately, and as the door to the inn closed, shielding him from the people in the street, in horror and revulsion he vomited all over the floor. Nick promised himself as he had done before, never to do anything like that again. But those feelings he felt when he had fought remained. They had been unleashed, and nothing would stop them now. The hero had truly awoken, and now his destiny will unfold.


End file.
